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Friday, April 28, 2017

I love cruises. It’s such an easy way to travel and relax.
Your every whim is

catered to from delicious meals to tropical drinks and 24
hour a day fun. You can’t have a bad time on a cruise unless you’re just a miserable
person who finds fault with everything. In that case, you should just stay home
and stay away from me.

It’s so exciting to stop in different countries and spend
the day experiencing their culture and doing excursions to see what life is
really like for the locals. Or just lay on a beach, drink bear and make fun of
people who wear thongs. We took a seven-day cruise to the Western Caribbean and
one of the countries we stopped in was Mahogany Bay, Honduras.

We took the opportunity to tour this beautiful Island and
visit a monkey sanctuary. We were told in this sanctuary you don’t have to
stand outside a fence and look at the monkeys like in a zoo, you could go
inside this huge cage where monkeys roamed free and interact with them.

Well, who wouldn’t want to interact with monkeys? Right?

What they don’t tell you in the brochure is these monkeys
are trained jewel thieves and members of a notorious gang. I was traveling with
hubby and our two teenaged kids at the time. My son decided to stay outside the
cage because basically it was dirty and smelled like these animals couldn’t use
a toilet properly. So much for animals who have a thumb like us. Monkeys go
when mother nature calls and sometimes that’s when they are in a tree above
your head. It’s not like a bird dropping either. It’s more like some perverted
old man giving you a golden shower without your consent.

Myself, hubby and our daughter along with other tourists went
inside the cage. We were surprised and delighted to see that the monkeys
immediately started interacting with us by jumping on our shoulders, putting
their arms around our necks or jumping into our arms for what we thought was a
cuddle.

Now the first thing you need to know about monkeys is they
have no acceptable social boundaries. The first thing you need to know about me
is I don’t like being groped because I will punch you in the face if you grab
my breast. Their leathery, hairy human like hands were all over me and it felt
like I was at happy hour on George Street. These monkeys are seriously going
down your top and in your pockets at the same time.

It became too overwhelming for my daughter and hubby so they
got out of the cage and went for a walk around the sanctuary while I stayed in
the cage determined to get a selfie these furry primates. I am willing to
suffer for my art… or a great selfie.

It was as if the monkeys knew my family was out of site. Suddenly,
they began to pounce! Then I realized what they were doing was robbing me! I
was wearing a backpack and one monkey climbed on top of it. Another tourist
told me the monkey was unzipping the backpack. Then we all realized they were
stealing things from the pockets and purses of everyone in the cage. He was
joined by a second monkey and they were putting their hands in the backpack
taking things like my sunglasses and lip balm then scooting to the top of the
cage and hiding the items in the trees. While I was trying to get these monkeys
off my back another one was hanging on to my belt and putting his hands in the
front pocket of my shorts. The pockets were empty but I got the feeling that
this little Trump supporting monkey wasn’t looking for coins. He was getting
his kicks.

Other tourists clued in and realized we weren’t visiting
monkeys as much as we were being mugged by monkeys! Our tour guides were no
where to be seen, on purpose I would imagine. We were all laughing in the
confusion of the moment until it hit me that if they took my passport or wallet
I would have to explain to authorities that I had become the victim of a
Honduras monkey gang and would end up in some immigrant jail cell while the
head monkey used my MasterCard to buy bananas and Michael Jackson paraphernalia
on eBay.

A nice fellow tourist was able to scare the monkeys of my
backpack but the little Trump monkey was holding on to my belt for dear life
and determined to get to know me better. I decided then and there that I was
not going die in a caged being raped to death by monkeys. I did lean off and
punch this monkey in the face.

It was like the whole tour group decided at once to leave
the cage and we all ran towards to door. Keep in mind that there were children
of all ages, seniors as well as able bodied people. Now I know, that a group
should only move as fast as the slowest person but I was wearing shorts and
this greasy monkey was grinning his big yellow teeth at me while acting like an
animal. I ran like a little bitch through the group. There was a local guarding
the door to the cage and helped pull Trump off me. He says, “You’ve met
Frisky.” To which I responded, “Yes we’re quite intimate now.”

Outside we assessed the damage. Several people had lost
sunglasses, one guy lost his house keys, lots of change had been stolen from
pockets and my innocence was gone.

The whole experience hasn’t changed my mind about taking
cruises. I have done several since then. Except now I don’t get into a fight
cage with monkeys. If you do happen to take a cruise in the Western Caribbean
and land in Honduras. I do recommend the monkey sanctuary but bring some mace.
Oh, and tell Trump I said hello.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

I really do have a medical condition that causes memory
loss. I can’t blame it all on menopause. This condition creates daily hurdles
for me to jump over so I came up with a few coping strategies to help me remember
things. One of those strategies is to email myself. This is normally done on the fly using the
mic on my iPhone. For example, when I am getting out of the shower and remember
I need to pick up milk or when I am just about to start a yoga class and
remember I need to sew the hole in the fork of my yoga pants. I’ll just send
myself a quick email using the phone’s mic so when I look at my phone later I
will remember to buy milk and wear underwear to yoga.

The problem with this strategy is I don’t always take the
time to make sure I have selected MY email address or that autocorrect understands
my Newfoundland accent.

A few days ago, I received an email from a friend who had
typed, “Stay strong. I am surprised, but I’ll support you no matter what you
decide.” I was confused at first. Then I scrolled down through her message and
discovered the email I thought I sent to myself earlier that day had been sent
to her by mistake. The email I sent to me was “To do today: Clean out hubby and
my closet. Bag and bring to goodwill.” The email SHE received said “Today told
hubby I am out of the closet. Sad to tell him I am Bill.”

Well, as you can imagine I had to make a quick phone call
and go into damage control mode before word got around. I thanked her for the
support but assured her the occasional
facial hair was from menopause not hormones. We had a good laugh and I made a
mental note to read emails before I sent them.

Of course, I forgot that note five minutes after I hung up
the phone.

A good friend of mine is a Priest. Last year I accidentally
sent him an email that said, “Why do I sweat more under my boobs that my
armpits?” I had met with my doctor a month before about controlling some
annoying menopause symptoms. She had put me on a new drug but told me to keep
track of the symptoms and any questions I had for my next appointment. That
morning the annoying symptom was boob sweat. My Priest friend emailed me back
with, “I don’t know but I’ll pray for you.” Can you just picture this poor man
on his knees hold Rosary beads chanting “Please Lord Jesus give us world peace,
stop the suffering of little children and cure Helen’s boob sweat.”

This morning was the worst. I can no longer leave my house.
I have also banned myself from email. I woke up to an email from my former boss
who is a high-ranking officer in the RCMP.” All the email said was “???? Did
you mean to send this to me?” I jumped out of bed and scrolled down through the
message. Last night, before I fell a sleep I sent myself an email that said, “How
do you cure vaginal dryness?”

Oh, sweet hearted, jumping in the garden Jesus!!! I can’t
believe I did that!!!

I had to send him back an email that said, “Sorry. That was
meant for me only. (P.S. was asking for a friend).”

Moral of the story is; if you ever get an email from me that
seems a little weird or embarrassing. Please delete it and don’t answer it. Or,
if someone tells you I am a lesbian with boob sweat and a dry vagina please
tell them you have it from a good source that rumour is not true.

Monday, April 10, 2017

Footprints to the daycare & school. How many American children grew up here?

Years ago, when I was a member of the OZFM/ NTV media, we
had a soft ball team. We were often invited to the Naval Base in Argentia to
play the American team. It was always a great weekend. They welcomed us like
celebrities and we loved going to visit. Naval and Air Station Argentia is a
former base of the United States Navy, it operated from 1941-1994 and was
established in the community of Argentia, NL about an hour drive from St. John’s.

Peeking through the school gymnasium door.

After an afternoon game of soft-ball we would dine like
Royalty at the main building. The Americans sure did know how to feed people well.
Then we would go to the ten-pin bowling alley for a game and few drinks. It was
always a grand time. At one point, approximately 12,000 American military
personnel were stationed at the Argentia base. We made some great friends and I
often wondered what happened to them after they left.

The eerie school hallway is quite now.

The base closed in 1994. There is rumoured to be an active
submarine base still there. Today, the base has been taken over as an
industrial site. Many of the original buildings are still standing but abandoned.
Most of the housing and the main hall have been demolished. You can drive or
walk around the base and look through the windows and imagine its former glory.
There is also a walking trail that takes you through the wooded area around the
base.

Can you see the ghost on the wall?

According to Wikipedia, on August 7, 1941 the heavy cruiser
USS Augusta

carrying U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt arrived in the
anchorage at Little Placentia Bay off the base. Roosevelt inspected the base
construction progress and did some fishing from Augusta over the next two days.
Augusta was joined by the British warship HMS Prince of Wales carrying British
Prime Minister Winston Churchill on August 9, 1941. While in the Argentia
anchorage from August 9–12, the chiefs of staff of Britain and the U.S. met to
discuss war strategies and logistics once the U.S. joined in the war. The two
leaders and their aides also negotiated the wording of a press release that
they called a "joint statement". That press release was issued on
August 14, 1941 in Washington, D.C. and was issued simultaneously in London,
England. Several days later the Daily Herald would characterize the public
statement as being the Atlantic Charter. However, there never was a signed,
legal

document called the "Atlantic Charter". Neither Roosevelt nor
Churchill signed it. The conference concluded the evening of August 12, 1941
with the British and American warships and their escorts passing in review
before departing the area for their home ports. The joint declaration was
publicly announced on August 14, presumably after Prince of Wales had returned
to UK waters.

February, 1942 saw the Argentia base at the centre of one of
the worst disasters in the US Navy's history when USS Pollux and USS Truxtun
were wrecked 75 mi (121 km) southwest of the base. Over 100 victims were buried
in Argentia's military cemetery.

I am Funny Like That

Helen C. Escott retired from the world renowned Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) in 2014 as the Senior Communications Strategist for Newfoundland and Labrador. Before joining the RCMP she worked in the media for 13 years (OZ FM/ VOCM/ CJYQ) in various positions including reporter, on-air personality, marketing and promotions.

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